


Not a Gift

by linndechir



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Developing Relationship, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 19:36:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21258542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linndechir/pseuds/linndechir
Summary: It wasn't that Geoffrey trusted Reid. He didn't. But the only way they were getting out of this alive was if Reid healed enough to keep fighting, and the only way he was going to heal was through blood.





	Not a Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedevilchicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/gifts).

Geoffrey winced as he stumbled down on one knee, the momentum of his last attack carrying him forward, and his injured leg wasn’t capable of counterbalancing it. The bite hadn’t seemed so bad at first, but by now his entire leg was aching and it took him more strength than it should have to get back up. But the last Skal was down, one bloody mangled corpse among many, and for now things were quiet enough that he could take a moment to look around.

It turned out Reid was faring even worse than him – he was sitting on the ground a few feet away, his back against the wall, one hand uselessly pressed against his stomach as if he could keep his innards from spilling out. Not that he needed any of those organs, but he did need the blood he was losing much too fast, and for once his wounds weren’t healing on their own.

The Ekon who’d somehow managed to get close enough to drive his claws into Reid’s stomach was lying dead by his feet now, his head not quite neatly severed from his neck. They’d won, or they would have if Geoffrey didn’t know there was still a Vulkod trying to sniff them out – part of that Ekon’s little attack group just like the Skals had been, but they’d managed to shake it off earlier. But the smell of blood in the air was too strong for any leech to miss, and Geoffrey doubted they had much time left before it would find them.

His mind was racing – a Vulkod was a challenging enemy even when he was at his best. He’d killed quite a few in his life, but always with preparation and if possible backup. He knew that he stood no chance while he could barely stay on his feet, and running away wasn’t an option for the same reason. Under normal circumstances Reid could have taken the thing down easily, but he’d have to heal first. In his current state he seemed even more useless than Geoffrey was. Geoffrey swallowed and crossed the distance between them, pulled down the scarf that was covering his mouth and nose, then knelt down despite the pain in his thigh.

Reid looked up at him with blood-shot eyes.

“You need to get out of here,” he said, one blood-smeared hand reaching out to grab Geoffrey’s. An oddly intimate gesture Geoffrey had no time to concern himself with right now. “It’ll be here soon.”

“And you’re in no state to fight it. Even if you were, you’d be in no state to find shelter afterwards, and the sun will be up soon.” It shouldn’t have mattered; a leech dying or at least suffering was always a good thing, but Geoffrey didn’t make a habit of abandoning people who fought by his side. Of all the leeches in England, he supposed Reid deserved a gruesome death the least.

“You once took, ah, great pleasure in telling me how long an Ekon can survive in the sun, starved and staked to a tree. I believe it was several days.” Reid tried to smile, but it didn’t look very convincing. “Go. I’ll keep it off you.”

“Oh, for the love of –” 

Geoffrey had been through countless battles in his life. They always gave him a certain clarity of thought – every danger required a quick, efficient reaction, every problem an immediate solution, and one couldn’t afford to waste time worrying and fretting about what-ifs. There was a very angry Vulkod at most minutes away from them. He couldn’t heal fast enough in time to fight it. Reid could.

Once he’d made up his mind, he acted immediately. Pushed up his coat and shirt sleeves, pulled a clean knife from his belt, cut his forearm and held it to Reid’s face. Every instinct Carl had ever instilled in him screamed when he saw Reid’s nostrils flare, but he fought it down. Reid had tasted his blood before, licking a few drops off his fingers after patching him up; he wasn’t going to snap.

_He wasn’t drained and out of his mind with pain then._

“Geoffrey, I –” Reid started, but whatever he’d been about to say was muffled when Geoffrey pressed his wrist against his mouth.

“Be quiet and drink. Then kill that thing,” Geoffrey said. His voice was tense – pain and desperation and an instinctive fear he couldn’t suppress. The cut burnt, he really hadn’t needed _more_ pain. “Damn contrary leech, even trying to complain when I feed you.”

Saying it almost made the reality of it worse: Reid’s cold lips against his skin, his tongue lapping the blood off, and then suddenly icy hands grabbed Geoffrey’s arms and yanked him closer, too sharp teeth broke the skin of his wrist in another place and Reid truly drank, didn’t just taste him carefully like he’d done in the past. It hurt as much as it always did, and in his weakened state it didn’t take long until Geoffrey started feeling dizzy and weak. The pain in his limbs numbed, he had trouble focusing, and even staying on his knees took more strength than he had. He felt Reid’s hands on his shoulders, steadying him and manoeuvring him to sit against the wall as Reid had before, and still Reid was drinking.

Geoffrey wanted to tell him to stop, that it was enough, too much even, but his tongue felt too heavy in his mouth and he couldn’t concentrate enough to form words. Suddenly he felt like a fool. Every hunter knew that he might very well die that way, drained by a leech. He’d been ready for that. He’d never expected it to happen because he’d offered himself up like a lamb to the slaughter. He’d been an idiot to trust Reid, to fall for that veneer of civilisation and decency when he should have known better than anyone that a leech was always a leech, a beast just waiting until the hunger became stronger than its self-control. 

He tried to grab the knife in his hand more tightly, but it slipped from his grasp, and a moment later his head thudded back against the cold wall and his eyes closed.

* * *

He woke on a small but comfortable cot in a large room, and it was dark outside. He woke at all, which was more than he’d expected last night. When he sat up, he felt far better than he should have, considering the state he’d been in. He was mostly undressed underneath the blankets, and he could feel bandages around his various wounds – the bite on his thigh, the one on his arm, the slashes on his side. And a small one in the crook of his arm. When Geoffrey pulled it off, he saw a tiny red dot from a needle. It took him a moment to realise what that meant – a blood transfusion, Reid’s speciality. Now that he looked around, he recognised Reid’s office at the Pembroke. The bed he was lying on, oddly familiar even though he’d never actually _slept_ on it. A brief flush warmed his cheeks and he quickly got to his feet, found himself swaying and holding on to a nearby cabinet to stay on his feet. Despite the transfusion he felt weak, and his head was swimming so much he wondered if Reid had given him something for the pain as well. But he was still alive. He tried not to think about the fact that Reid must have carried him here, even as the sun was creeping up on the horizon. That he’d sat down to take care of Geoffrey’s wounds, given him blood, put him to bed. 

It was the least he could do after Geoffrey had saved his life, but it still – it filled him with a very different feeling than the angry sense of betrayal he’d had last night. Something quite opposite, but equally uncomfortable. He distracted himself by washing up, though he was dismayed to find his clothes in a bloody, torn heap on the floor. He really needed to buy some new things.

It didn’t take more than a few minutes for Reid to show up, impeccably dressed as always, moving as if he’d never been injured in his life, and slightly less pale than he usually was. Geoffrey wondered if it was only his blood coursing through Reid’s veins, or if he’d helped himself to some transfusion bags as well.

“You’re up,” Reid said, sounding pleased and not one bit surprised. He’d probably kept an eye on Geoffrey through the walls while dealing with his patients, and that too should have made Geoffrey far more uncomfortable than it did. “How are you feeling? I wanted to apologise for taking so much last night – I didn’t mean to, but my injuries were … considerable. It was the only way I could heal in time.”

“You almost killed me,” Geoffrey growled, but he wasn’t really in the mood for an argument. He was wearing nothing but his underwear and felt somewhat ridiculous, facing Reid in his expensive suit. Reid didn’t disagree, but looked away, something like guilt flashing over his face. So polite and civilised again, and yet all it had taken was an injury and a little pain to turn him into the kind of monster that’d kill a fr– an ally. 

Reid still wasn’t meeting his eyes. He went over to a large closet near the bed, made from expensive, heavy wood, and opened it to take out a suit and a shirt. Even at a glance Geoffrey could see that it wasn’t Reid’s style – rougher fabric than he usually wore, less elegant, and a bit too small for him, too. He frowned.

“I understand if you wish to leave,” Reid said, still busying himself with the clothes as he laid them out on the bed. “I took the liberty to have this made for you a few weeks ago – I do seem to ruin your clothes every time you’re here, so it seems only fair I replace them.”

Geoffrey stared for a moment, then stepped closer. Only a few steps between them now, close enough that he could have easily reached out to grab Reid’s arm.

“I don’t need gifts from you, leech,” he said sharply. As if that was an appropriate apology for almost killing him. But worse, as if it was some kind of payment for the reason _all_ of Geoffrey’s clothes tended to end up on the floor when he was here, not just whatever he had to take off for Reid to dress his wounds. The reason he’d been on that bed Reid was putting the clothes down on now, not to sleep or rest, but to –

“It’s not a gift.” Reid seemed to have recovered from his own discomfort, turned with a small smile playing around his lips. Geoffrey caught a glimpse of one fang, felt an itch in his forearm where it had ripped his skin open. He should kill the damn leech instead of staring at his mouth, but he wasn’t in the mood for that any more than for an argument. “It’s a replacement for something I destroyed. You can hardly walk home like this, as much as I’m sure some people would enjoy the view.”

For a few moments Geoffrey’s anger lingered – at himself for getting injured at all, for needing Reid’s help, at Reid for making it far harder to hate him than it should be, and for looking at him the way he was now … And then he shook his head and snorted in amusement.

“No, I think that’d just be you,” he said. It was too cold in Reid’s study to wear so little, but he still didn’t reach for those clothes Reid had bought him. No doubt they were good quality, and expensive, even if they didn’t look as fancy as what Reid liked to wear. He knew it should have bothered him more – he’d seen far too many cases of Ekons keeping humans as pets, dressing them and pampering them, fucking them and sucking them dry and sooner or later discarding them when they got bored. But it wasn’t only that he wasn’t that pathetic – it was also that he didn’t truly believe Reid saw him that way. Geoffrey would never admit it out loud, but Reid made a habit of … doing nice things for people, most of the time without an ulterior motive. And yes, maybe he’d _almost_ killed Geoffrey, but _almost_ counted for a lot in a situation like that. Reid had stopped in time, even once Geoffrey was long past fighting back. He could have got away with killing him so easily last night, and not only had he chosen not to, but he’d gone out of his way to save Geoffrey’s life.

“You’re not going to leave, are you?” Reid asked, blue eyes staring intently at Geoffrey. There was something predatory about that look, but not in a way Geoffrey minded. He probably spent too much time around the leech if he could tell the difference.

“You sound awfully sure of that,” he said, but something in the air between them had changed. The tension had turned into something warmer, more pleasant and far more dangerous at the same time. They’d been here often enough that it almost felt like a game, dancing around each other until one of them snapped, or more often than not both of them.

Reid was so close that Geoffrey could feel his body was less cold than usual. Less cold than the last time he’d been here, when they hadn’t made it to the bed, but ended up awkwardly draped over Reid’s desk, each with one hand around the other’s cock, Reid panting into his neck and holding back from biting him even when he’d spilt himself all over Geoffrey’s fingers. Reid’s hand had felt like ice on Geoffrey’s skin, and he didn’t know when that had stopped disgusting him.

When he reached out to touch Reid now, fingertips brushing over his cheek, Reid’s skin felt warm. Cool for a human, but not unnaturally cold. Again Geoffrey wondered if it was his blood reddening and warming the skin he was touching, if it’d be his blood stiffening Reid’s cock. The thought made him surge against Reid, shoving him back and pushing his hand between his legs. Reid’s lips curled into a smile, just an inch from Geoffrey’s face, and then he kissed Geoffrey hard enough to take the breath from his lungs. 

The kiss didn’t last for as long as Geoffrey would have liked, but he was still breathless by the end of it, frowned when he saw the more serious look in Reid’s eyes.

“You’ve lost a considerable amount of blood, Geoffrey, and I’ve given you enough analgesics that I’m surprised you’re walking around at all.” He sighed, brushed his knuckles over Geoffrey’s cheek. “I’m not sure you’re in any state for this.”

“Is that your professional opinion, Dr Reid?” Geoffrey tried to sound annoyed, but in truth Reid was probably right. He still felt weak, and his mind was unfocused as if he’d drunk too much or slept too little, and he wasn’t entirely sure he was only shivering because of the cold. That and he was usually hard by the time he put his hands on Reid, and right now he wasn’t even close. Reid had been, but Geoffrey still had too much pride to get the leech off and not himself. “Right. I should probably head back. Let my men know I’m fine.”

“Oh, I sent a boy to inform them last night,” Reid said and shrugged. “I know your men still trust me even less than you do. And I wasn’t suggesting you leave. There are other things we could do.”

Geoffrey’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Like what?”

“For one you should really eat something. Preferably something rich in iron,” Reid said innocently. His expression was perfectly neutral.

“Are you trying to invite me to dinner again? Because the fact that you can’t eat doesn’t make that idea very appealing.” Reid had almost stopped asking after Geoffrey had said no enough times, but of course the bastard hadn’t actually given up. For all his good manners, he was as stubborn as a mule.

“Feel free to pretend that I’m only there as your doctor, concerned for your well-being,” Reid said. Geoffrey shook his head, but the truth was that his stomach was rumbling. He hadn’t eaten since they’d gone out to hunt the previous evening, over twenty-four hours ago by now. And he supposed there was worse company to be had than Reid’s.

“I suppose you do owe me dinner after last night,” Geoffrey said finally. He still had one hand on Reid’s chest – it felt like a waste not to touch him the one night he felt almost human, but maybe dinner would help him get his strength back. “I’ll get dressed.”

Reid stepped aside, and Geoffrey didn’t know why it surprised him that the suit fit him perfectly, as if he’d visited the tailor personally for measurements. It still irked him – wearing a suit Reid had bought for him, letting Reid take him to some fancy restaurant Geoffrey would have never set foot in on his own even if he had been able to afford it – but he decided to let it go for one night. 

Reid _did_ owe him. And Geoffrey would most certainly not make a habit of this.


End file.
